


Starting Here and Starting Now

by Frea_O



Series: Mine for Safekeeping [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Conversations, F/F, Gen, Kid Fic, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frea_O/pseuds/Frea_O
Summary: They gave Tony’s doctor the agreed-upon cover story. Two friends, unlucky in love—definitely true on Daisy’s part and unfortunately looking-truer-by-the-day on Jemma’s—and aware of ticking biological clocks, deciding to forgo men and raise a kid together. While remaining friends. Baby-sharing, Daisy joked. Like Uber for motherhood.(Jemma and Daisy go to Target, eat cheap junk food, and stare existentialism and motherhood in the face together.)





	Starting Here and Starting Now

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from _Everything Changes_ on the _Waitress_ Original Broadway Cast recording. And I'm rapidly running out of lyrics from that song to mine.

“Why does stuff you can get away with wearing as a baby go out of fashion as you get older?” Daisy asked. She held up the jacket that had sparked the thought. “Look at this! It’s covered in rainbow dinosaurs. _I_ want a jacket covered in rainbow dinosaurs.”

“Nothing is stopping you from wearing a jacket covered in rainbow dinosaurs,” Jemma said without looking up from her phone.

Daisy scoffed a little and returned the jacket to the rack, as it was marked 2T and Tony, adorably chubby though he was, wouldn’t need that for a while. “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. I’d lose it in the field the second I needed to go incognito,” she said.

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” Jemma’s voice had gone absent in a telling way.

“Simmons,” Daisy said. “Look down.”

Baffled, Jemma finally pocketed her phone and did as ordered. She then glanced at Daisy’s outfit and sighed. “You may have a point,” she said, for they were the only women in the Target baby department dressed head to toe in black and gray.

“It’s been literal years since I’ve seen you willingly wear colors,” Daisy said.

“That’s absolutely not true. I had that lovely red sweater that Fi—that was a Christmas present.”

“Dark red,” Daisy said. “I’m not sure that counts.”

Jemma wrinkled her nose and wiggled her head in a poor mimicry of Daisy’s statement. “Do you even own any jackets that aren’t leather?”

“It protects me from getting scraped up,” Daisy said. “And I look badass.”

They winced when a woman with a toddler in the child seat of her shopping cart turned and glared. ‘Sorry,’ Daisy mouthed. She waited until the woman had turned down another aisle before she dared to meet Jemma’s eye, and they dissolved into giggles.

“Maybe we both need to wear more color,” Jemma said.

“Tony, for sure, does.”

“Oh, isn’t this darling?” Jemma stepped around Daisy to hold up a little sailor outfit.

“Okay, but before we buy that, we need to agree that there has to be an age cap on how long we’re allowed to dress him up like a sailor.” Daisy leaned over to rest her elbows on the cart, grinning at the unimpressed look Jemma shot her direction. “Hey, don’t look at me, I’m not the one the bullies will corner in the schoolyard.”

“He’s less than a month old, I think we have some time before we reach this arbitrary age cap of yours.” Jemma held up pack of socks questioningly.

“Toss ’em in. This trip’s on me.”

“You can’t pay for everything.”

“Can, and will.” Daisy continued to lean on the cart, pushing it along as she followed Jemma. “Between living on the Bus and at the Playground, I’ve barely spent any of my salary for the past few years. Plus that government payout because they wanted to buy me off for having falsely accused me of Talbot’s attempted murderation. Let’s face it, we’re rich.”

“You’re rich,” Jemma said.

Daisy shrugged. For somebody who’d lived in a van for years, she reflected, money meant very little to her. “Mine, yours, ours, it doesn’t really matter to me.”

“You should be saving some for yourself. I can handle my share—”

“Simmons, c’mon. We’re roommates. We’ve got a kid together. We work together.” That last part was theoretical at the moment, as SHIELD had been dismantled and it would take Coulson time to gather lost assets. “It’s not that big of a leap to consider that payout ‘our’ money for Tony, is it?”

Jemma gave her a pinched look. “At least set a little aside for you.”

“I will. If nothing else, this shopping excursion has provided proof that I need to buy something a little lighter than dark gray.” Daisy picked up a onesie with the little dipper constellation on the front and tossed that into the cart. She was willing to bet she could find a shirt with a big dipper constellation on it for Jemma. “We should consider a joint checking account for Tony expenses.”

“As long as you maintain your own account, too. What if I decide to become a complete shrew and clean you out?”

Daisy had to laugh at the very thought. “Well, we’re not married or even dating, so I doubt we’re getting divorced. But if it means that much to you, yes, fine, I’ll keep part of my paycheck in a separate account where you can’t get your shrewish hands on it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Jemma said serenely.

She waited until after they’d collected diapers—which took forever, as Jemma insisted on comparing reviews on her phone and only made a choice because Daisy reminded her that Coulson might decide to keep Tony permanently if they didn’t return soon—before she brought up a point that had been stuck to the back of her mind. The appointment with Tony’s new pediatrician had been an eye-opening experience. Daisy had grown so used to SHIELD doctors that she’d simply assumed that would continue to be the case. But SHIELD, even before its untimely demise, hadn’t kept pediatricians on staff. Which meant they’d had to see a civilian.

And boy, had there been some uncomfortable questions.

“So, uh, Dr. Clements,” she said as Jemma double-checked the formula reviews she’d already read three times.

“What about him?” Jemma asked.

“He definitely thought we’re together. Like, _together_ -together.”

“It’s to be expected. I’m not exactly pleased with the nutrient balance in this brand, but it seems to be the best choice among our options.” Jemma set two containers in the cart. “I suppose I could cook something up in the lab with a better balance.”

“When did you become an expert on infant nutrition?” Daisy asked.

“Last night,” Jemma said, surprise echoing through her voice that Daisy would ever doubt her. “I read a number of proper peer-reviewed studies and texts about the subject.”

“Yes, yes, because you’re a wicked smart science genius, we know.” But Daisy grinned and elbowed her friend to take a little sting out of the words. “It doesn’t bother you that Dr. Clements thinks we’re girlfriends?”

They’d given Tony’s doctor the agreed-upon cover story. Two friends, unlucky in love—definitely true on Daisy’s part and unfortunately looking-truer-by-the-day on Jemma’s—and aware of ticking biological clocks, deciding to forgo men and raise a kid together. While remaining friends. Baby-sharing, Daisy had joked, like Uber for motherhood. They’d decided that she should be the birth mother, as Jemma had a brother who could have donated genetic material that would explain why Tony favored both of his mothers. Said brother remained pleasantly unaware he had a nephew as Jemma needed a few days to process before she informed her family, but for all intents and purposes, that was what the world would think had happened.

But Dr. Clements had looked at them, knowingly. And it had set Daisy’s back up.

“I admit,” Jemma said, still sounding blithe and unbothered, “it does make some things convenient. Let people think what they will.”

But it’s wrong, Daisy wanted to tell her. Jemma was supposed to be with Fitz. Part of Fitz-Simmons. People were supposed to look at them and see the epic love story written into the cores of their personalities. They were supposed to look at Daisy and Jemma and see good friends.

“If it bothers you, I’ll start correcting misconceptions,” Jemma said, setting a pack of BPA-free bottles in the cart. “After all, it might make things difficult for you when you find a paramour.”

Daisy leaned over to grab the bottles, swapping them out for a different set. When Jemma gave her a baffled look, she said, “I hate orange. And I don’t think the ‘paramour’ thing is something we’ll have to worry about for a long time. I’m swearing off men for a while. It never ends well for me.”

“You may have the right of it,” Jemma said, surprising Daisy. She’d expected a supportive but ultimately hopeful platitude, though she knew for a fact that Jemma was probably relieved. She’d never liked a single one of Daisy’s romantic prospects. To this day, she still scoffed whenever Miles was brought up. Daisy was pretty sure Jemma thought Lincoln had genuinely been an idiot. She was nice enough not to say so, on account of that time he’d sacrificed himself for all of them.

Daisy pushed all of that aside. “I take it your talk with Fitz last night didn’t go well.”

“Mm, no. It did not.”

“Want to go get a drink and talk about it? I bet if we text Coulson, he’ll be willing to take Tony for a couple more hours.” They’d simply have to risk coming home to find their baby dressed up as Captain America. Or worse: as Captain America’s shield.

Jemma, though, shook her head. “We shouldn’t have alcohol so soon after the stress time traveling put on our bodies.”

That killed Daisy’s evening plans of kicking back with Yo-yo, Mack, and some beers for a much-needed Kevin Costner movie marathon. Nah, she decided. One beer couldn’t hurt. For now, she leaned over the cart and considered her options. “All right, so no alcohol. However, we _are_ at Target.”

“What do you mean?”

Twenty minutes later, all of their new groceries and supplies had been bagged, waiting in the cart as the two of them sat in the little café and shared a plate of cheap, overly-salty popcorn. Jemma’s lips and tongue were bright red from her cherry Icee. “This is your alternative to a bar?” she asked, but there was an unseen smile in her voice.

“We’re parents now. We have to adapt.” Daisy caught a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “Soon we’ll be dealing with other parents and play dates and birthday parties. Might as well get the acclimatization process started already. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps for our baby. How appropriate.” Jemma twirled her straw. “Your tongue is blue. Well, purple.”

“The price for deliciousness. C’mon, Simmons, spill. It’s obvious you want to talk about this, whatever it is.”

Jemma continued to twirl her straw for another good ten seconds before she apparently gave in with a sigh. “He doesn’t like himself very much right now. Fitz, I mean. That’s the core of the problem. He blames himself for everything that happened to us in the Framework, and for killing Agnes.”

Daisy could understand not liking yourself that much. Those months, knowing she would cave immediately and go under Hive’s sway without looking back, the self-loathing had been so unbearable that she hadn’t slept for days at a time. She set the Icee aside, her stomach churning. She never wanted any of her friends to go through that.

“I feel awful for him, I really do,” Jemma went on. “I saw him shoot Agnes, did I tell you that?”

They hadn’t really had much time for catching up, inside the Framework or out of it. Daisy shook her head.

“I couldn’t believe it was him. That place, it did things to his mind. But Fitz remains convinced that the darkness was inside him all along and—I don’t know anymore. The Framework was a terrible idea. As a training tool, it was marvelous, you could spar without actual physical pain. But we made it too real.” Jemma fiddled with the plastic rim of her lid. “I assisted with that, so I bear some responsibility, as well, I suppose.”

“For assholes bogarting your science and using it for evil?” Daisy asked. “Simmons, no. That’s not on you. We blew up the Framework, that’s over.”

“Cold comfort, I suppose.”

“Sometimes the only comfort we get,” Daisy said.

“Am I a bad person?”

“No,” Daisy said automatically, blinking. Jemma had her flaws—they all did—and she could be bloodthirsty and mercenary and dark, just like everybody else. “You’re not some pure shining beacon of innocence or anything, which: thank god. If you were, it’d be _very_ intimidating sharing a kid with you. But you’re also not a bad person. Where is this coming from? If it’s about the Framework, we destroyed it, remember? And as soon as I can figure out how, we’re going to destroy it even more so shitgibbons like Deke can never recreate it in the future.”

Jemma shook her head, waving that off. “It’s not about that. Not entirely. I just—I feel guilty over Fitz. He hates himself. I should be there to show him why he shouldn’t hate himself, shouldn’t I? And yet…”

Years of watching Jemma’s mind work made Daisy sit back and simply wait for her train of thought to reach its intended station. But when a full minute stretched out, Daisy cleared her throat. “That’s a lot to take on for anyone, doesn’t matter how much you love them,” she said, keeping her tone neutral.

If anything, Jemma simply looked more frustrated. “I feel like I should want to, though. If I were at all a proper girlfriend.”

“I can give you a lot of sayings about ‘should,’” Daisy said. She’d heard a million of them growing up. “They’re all complete and total crap.”

For a second, a smile teased at the corner of Jemma’s lips, but her face fell again. “I don’t know what to do for him.”

“I don’t think he knows, either,” Daisy said. For one sharp, horrible moment she missed Andrew. He would know what to say. To Jemma, to Fitz, to Daisy. A lifetime of mistrust in psychiatry made her want to hunch and automatically reject the next thought that flitted through her mind. For Andrew’s sake, she pushed that reaction to the side. “But maybe he should talk to someone. Someone that’s not you.” She added the last bit when Jemma’s eyes cut to her. “A professional.”

Jemma’s eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m the last person to suggest somebody else get therapy,” Daisy said. She kicked her heel against her chair, deliberately stretching out her shoulders. “But they kept him in solitary for months and he was still reeling from the Framework. A few weeks cross-country with Hunter isn’t nearly enough psychological healing. And that’s assuming Hunter didn’t somehow make it worse.”

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma said, resting her chin on her palm.

“Hunter probably didn’t make it worse,” Daisy said. He might be the personification of ‘you tried,’ but he had a good heart. And he genuinely loved Fitz. “Please stop beating yourself up over this.”

“You can’t possibly know that that’s what I’m doing!”

“Please, lady, I practically invented the beating yourself up world tour.” Daisy snorted and stole a handful of popcorn off of Jemma’s plate. This was, she reflected, quite a heavy conversation to hold over junk food in a department store café.

“It’s just—it’s Tony,” Jemma said, blurting it out.

Daisy, mid-reach for another handful, went still. “What about him? I told you—”

“Don’t you dare offer to raise him alone again,” Jemma said. “I want to be there. Not that you wouldn’t do a wonderful job as a single parent, but we’ve been over this.”

“Okay,” Daisy said. “I won’t.”

Jemma closed her eyes. “And now I’m snapping at you. Great. Just, bloody, great.”

“The prim and proper Jemma Simmons, cursing? It’s serious territory now,” Daisy said.

Jemma kicked her under the table, very lightly. “Oh, shut it.”

“Someday I’ll get you to call somebody something like ‘fuckface,’ and it will be amazing.” As an apology, Daisy reached across the table and wrapped her fingers around Jemma’s wrist, rubbing her friend’s sleeve with her thumb. “What about Tony, Jemma?”

“He needs me. He needs me, and Fitz needs me, and I need…” Jemma waved her free hand vaguely in the air, closing her eyes again. “I don’t know.”

The answer to that was probably also therapy, Daisy figured. Jemma had been just as gutted by Andrew’s loss as she had been. She tightened her grip fractionally. “I think what you need is time,” she said.

Jemma didn’t open her eyes, but she nodded.

“And you told Fitz that, didn’t you?”

“He took it surprisingly well. I think I said some nonsense about how the baby would keep me too busy for a while, that I wouldn’t even notice, that he wouldn’t notice, but we both know better.”

“I think he needs time, too,” Daisy said. “I think we all do. You don’t have to have answers for him right now, but—don’t feel guilty about it. And don’t beat yourself up.”

“It’s not beating myself up. Or at least not too much,” Jemma said, for she caught the skeptical look perfectly well. She finally caved enough to nibble at a piece of popcorn, though she pulled a face and immediately set the popcorn back down on the plate. “It had an element of truth to it, at the very least. Let’s face it, Tony needs me and Fitz—well…”

Fitz’s actions had led them all into a world of pure torture, Daisy thought. She blew out a breath. That was a lot to unpack.

“So: time,” Jemma said, nodding resolutely. “We’ll take time, and focus on the important things like Tony and rebuilding SHIELD.”

“And naps,” Daisy said, as Tony had been up half the night and only walking around with him would settle him down.

Jemma’s smile turned unexpectedly soft, throwing Daisy completely off-balance. “That too,” she said, and Daisy was glad she didn’t seem to need a response, as Daisy had completely lost the ability to verbalize for a second. Jemma didn’t appear to notice, for she briskly collected the popcorn and their depleted drinks. “But speaking of time, we’ve left Tony with Coulson long enough, and I want to get all of these new toys properly cleaned before he touches them. We should go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daisy said, not sure if she was laughing at Jemma or at herself. Gamely, she followed her friend out.

To their relief, Coulson had not dressed their son up in Captain America onesie. Daisy wasn’t sure if Jemma saw the little red and blue rattle with the white star that he slipped into their bags, but she decided not to mention it. Fitz, Coulson’s temporary roommate, was nowhere to be seen when they collected the baby, and his door remained shut. Like the little rattle, Daisy pretended not to notice.

Time, she thought again, and hoped the universe would be kind enough to grant it to them for once.


End file.
